


Otayuri Prompted Drabbles

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Otayuri Drabbles, Ficlets and Oneshots [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crushes, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, pair skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Collection of prompted Otayuri drabbles from my blog.





	1. You knew that already, didn't you?

**Author's Note:**

> Rating is the highest of all the drabbles, but the drabbles vary in rating and content.
> 
> Chapter title is the prompt line for the drabble, and any additional detail is in the chapter notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by parkkate.

“You knew that already, didn’t you?”

Yuuri considered him. “You look at him the way Viktor often looks at me,” he said gently, in that tone he always got when talking about Viktor. “I’ve learned what that means now.”

Yuri kicked the wall of the ice rink, wishing he was on the ice instead of just watching Yuuri practise. He should have put his skates on. Yuuri was giving him a disgustingly soft look. Pig. He didn’t want to be looked at like that. If he had his skates he could crush him by showing off his quads again. Yuuri still fell more often than landing them, even in practise. He’d remind the pig who won gold.

“Don’t compare Otabek to that balding old man!” he snapped. 

“Don’t call Viktor old! He can still out-skate you!” Yuuri snapped back, glaring at him.

Yuri glared back, even more irritated that he hadn’t put his skates on. “Wait here, pig! I’m getting my skates!”


	2. "You want to put your what in my what?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Anon.

“You want to put your what in my what?”

Otabek didn’t look impressed, and Yuri felt a quiver of unease. Otabek was still his only real friend. The pig and that old man didn’t count. If he pushed Otabek too far, then what would he do? Being away from him after Barcelona was upsetting enough, and that hadn’t even really been for that long.

“You’ve put your fingers in my mouth before, Yuri, how is holding hands so scandalous?” Otabek asked, leaning back a little, and resting his hands on his hips. Yuri glanced over him. How did he always look so cool?

He felt his face heat up even more than when Otabek had first asked. He didn’t even know why, but the idea of holding hands with Otabek made him feel hot and embarrassed. That was something the pig did with Viktor. He and Otabek weren’t like that. Or, at least, Otabek had shown no sign of wanting that… Which was fine. Yuri wasn’t interested anyway. 

Yuuri and Viktor looked like idiots most of the time. He wanted none of that nonsense.

“You wanted to try that pair routine Katsuki and Nikiforov did, and we need to hold hands to do that,” Otabek continued, his lips tilting when he finished. The jerk was laughing at him. “That’s how pair skating works, Yura.”

Yuri shivered. Every time he heard that name come from Otabek’s mouth, he wanted to kiss the idiot. Looking to the side, and glaring, he held out his arms. Otabek moved behind him, and rested his hands under Yuri’s where they were outstretched. Yuri let his hands go heavy, resting them on Otabek’s to solidify the starting pose they were doing, and held his breath. 

Maybe trying out that pair skating routine really was a stupid impulse he should have ignored. He grit his teeth as they skated slowly, learning and modifying the routine, and tried to focus on himself, and not Otabek’s every move unless he had to. 

He was so busy trying to stop feeling so hot, that the first lift shocked a peal of delighted laughter out of him, and his heart raced from exhilaration, as he was held up above the ice.

The expression on Otabek’s face as he put him down, and they turned to face each other, made him feel the same way.


	3. "Why are we hiding?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by parkkate.

“Why are we hiding?”

Yuri glanced at Otabek’s expression. Just as stoic as always, and slightly bored. Scowling, he peeked through the crack in the door again.

“The pig and Viktor are looking for me,” he said. “I refuse to be dragged out with them again. They’re sickening to watch.”

Otabek made a low, amused sound. It sent a gust of warmth over the side of Yuri’s face. They were standing too close, and he swallowed, and peered out the door again. He could hear the idiots out there, calling for him.

“Why don’t you just say no?” Otabek asked. “No...you’d have tried that already...enthusiastically.”

Yuri closed the door, and glared at him. “If you have nothing useful to say then don’t—”

“What if you were already busy?” Otabek interrupted, the corners of his lips twitching. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you skipping lunch today during practise. Shall we say we have plans to eat?”

Heat rushed to Yuri’s cheeks. Otabek’s lips were twitching again, and Yuri turned and pulled the door open. Viktor and Yuuri were at the end of the hallway.

“There you are!” Yuuri called out. “Do you want to—”

Yuri grabbed Otabek’s wrist, and tugged him in the opposite direction. “Already have plans with Otabek. Go be gross by yourselves, pig!”


	4. "There is nothing you can say to make me stop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by parkkate.

“There’s nothing you can say that will make me stop!” Yuri hissed, pushing away from the edge of the rink.

Yakov was shouting after him, but Yuri ignored him, building speed, and then attempting another quad salchow. Like all the other times that day, he lost his balance, he was too far forward, his legs just weren’t where he needed them to be, and he fell.

Growling, he curled his hand into a fist, and beat the ice, before picking himself back up, ready to try again. There was a sharp scrape on the ice, and Yuuri came to a sudden stop next to him.

“Give yourself a break, Yurio,” he said, out of breath himself from his practise. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Worry about yourself!” Yuri snapped. “You’re so red you look like a boiled pig.”

There was another sharp scrape on the ice, and Yuri tensed his shoulders in anticipation. A moment later, a heavy arm landed over them, nearly knocking him over.

“You really should practise some ballet while you adjust to your growth spurt, you know,” Viktor said, in his annoyingly cheerful know-it-all voice. “Get used to the height off the ice before on, you know? Take a break.”

Yuri growled again, pushing his arm off, and skating away from them, even though his body was aching from his falls. Checking for clear space, he tried again. And again.

Sometime later, he let out a stream of curses, and went to the edge of the rink for some water.

“When you were giving me directions, you should have said follow the swearing.”

Yuri looked up as he reached the barrier. Otabek was standing there with his hands in the pockets of his coat, tilting his head slightly, and smiling back at him.

“I would recognise that angry voice anywhere.”

Yuri’s stomach twisted. He scowled, and grabbed his bottle. How many times had Otabek seen him fall?

“You’re early,” he said shortly, taking a drink, and leaning his back against the rink, trying to hide his face as he felt it heat up.

He hadn’t seen Otabek for months, and the first time he laid eyes on Yuri, it was to see him fall. That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Yuri had been planning to meet him at the airport.

“I grabbed an earlier flight,” Otabek said, leaning on the barrier next to him. Yuri could see him out of the corner of his eye. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

“Congratulations,” Yuri muttered, trying to ignore the way Viktor and Yuuri came together and started fooling around with some pair moves, while Yakov shouted at them from the side of the rink. But he couldn't take his eyes off them. He used to skate beautifully like that. Until he’d grown.

“Ditch training and come out with me?” Otabek asked, tapping his upper arm with the back of one hand. “I missed lunch.”

Yuri sneered at him. “I’m in the middle of training.”

“Just for an hour?”

Now that he was standing still, Yuri’s entire body was aching. He could feel every fall, and the thought of falling again made him cringe. But he had to push through it, and adjust to his new height.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yakov walking around the rink towards him. The last thing he wanted was Yakov lecturing him in front of Otabek.

“Fine, one hour,” he said, quickly moving away to exit the rink. One hour wouldn’t set him back much, but it was plenty of time to catch up with Otabek.


	5. “Me, dramatic? How dare you, I thought you were my friend?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by starshaping.

“Me, dramatic? How dare you!” Yuri hissed, throwing a glare over his shoulder at Mila, before turning back to Otabek. “I thought you were my friend!”

Otabek merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow, while Mila cackled behind them. Yuri could hear the scratch of her blades as she skated away from the edge of the rink, and he wanted to turn around and yell at her some more. His face was hot, probably red, Viktor always did say he turned into a tomato when he was embarrassed.

The nerve of her. To say that, in front of Otabek.  _To_ Otabek.

“Only your friend?” Otabek asked, his lips twitching, as if he was forcing down a grin. “Sounds like you want a little more than that, Yura.”

Yuri clenched his hands into fists, and resisted the urge to punch the asshole. “Don’t call me that!”

Otabek looked past him, no doubt to where Mila would be skating around with a smug smirk, or laughing with Georgi. Yuri whipped his head around, she better not be laughing with Georgi.

Somewhat placated, he saw she was practising some spins, and turned back. He shouldn’t have brought Otabek to the rink while he was visiting. That was clearly a mistake. He’d thought it was safe while Viktor was visiting Japan with Yuuri, but clearly he’d lost his mind, and forgotten how terrible Mila was.

“I thought you liked when I called you Yura?” Otabek asked, looking back at Yuri, and stepping closer. “Or was she lying? Your over the top reaction says no.”

Yuri bit the inside of his cheek and frantically tried to think of something to say. All the times Viktor and Yuuri had teased him about this, and Mila, he’d just told them to piss off. He couldn’t say that to Otabek, or he might actually leave. He didn’t want him to leave, he only just got to Russia.

“Stop wasting time,” he finally said. “We have better things to be doing.”

Otabek chuckled, and threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling him away from the rink.

“You’re right,” he said. “I could be taking you out for lunch, _Yura_.”


	6. "Yuri, has anyone ever told you to stop being a smart ass?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Anon, on my nsfw blog.
> 
> Disclaimer: Yuri is of legal consenting age in this.

“Yuri, has anyone ever told you to stop being a smart ass?”

Yuri made a dismissive sound, and thrust his hips up higher, sinking Otabek’s fingers deeper into his ass.

“They usually give up after the third or fourth time,” he said, before biting his lip and closing his eyes, as a groan escaped him. 

Otabek swallowed against a sudden dryness in his throat from the sight.

“You could be nicer while I’m doing this to you though,” he muttered, twisting his fingers a little, and then pressing harder.

Yuri’s hips thrust upwards again, until only his shoulders and feet were on the bed, and he moaned and tossed his head to the side.

“Just hurry up and fuck me, you jerk!”


End file.
